Appetence
by ravencackle
Summary: Three years after suffering from a sudden onset of amnesia, Heejung attempts to pull her life together, but after a chance meeting with a stranger, things only seem to get more confusing. My personal take on a continuation of Jiwoo's good ending, and my very first fanfiction. Rated M for future chapters and possible language. (Heejung x Jiwoo)
1. Intro

**Author's Note** : Feels weird to use the word 'author'. Anyway, this is my very first fanfiction ever, and the first time in years that I'm writing for fun. I've been working on this story in my free time ever since I watched Cry and Dodger play through Jiwoo's route. I was distraught by the ending and I immediately wanted closure. So, I took the scenario that played out in my mind and transferred it into this. I actually have around 75 pages currently typed out, and if this intro and the next couple chapters are well-received, I guess I'll continue to put it out there. I've spent a lot of free time on it, so why not share it? I apologize in advance for any parts that seem out of character, I'm not sure how well I've represented Heejung and Jiwoo, but I hope I've done an okay job. It's a bit difficult when you really don't have too much material to pull from! Please be honest with reviews so I can hopefully adjust accordingly, but also keep in mind I'm new to this! Anyway, enough of my rambling!

* * *

"I have to go meet him!"

After finding the brown notebook amongst the pile of books on her shelves, they were the only words that could escape her. It was a promise she made to herself, however, she had come to realize within time that the chances of her finding someone she couldn't even possibly remember in a city that wasn't small by any means was close to impossible.

For a while, the thought haunted her every day, and it consumed her dreams every single night.

The notebook's pages were thin and torn from the several times she had perused the completely unbelievable words inside, and several details she found to be potentially important had been highlighted or underlined. However, months passed, and the notebook slowly began to collect dust.

Her life had become so busy after she had been released from the hospital after suffering from amnesia. With her family not coming forth to claim her, all the hospital bills were up to her to pay back. This along with her school loans, and the price of rent in the city of Busan caused her life to become an endless cycle of waking up early, working two jobs, and coming home late at night to collapse into bed.

Her free time became practically nonexistent, and when she did have a few minutes to do something, she spent it drawing, as it was the only stress relief she had.

The only link she had to her past, Heejae, had even drifted away from her. With her life being so centered on work, there was no way to find time to spend with him. She guessed this was just something natural that happened as people started to grow up and establish lives.

When she thought about this, her heart always sank. Was this her life now? Working all day at jobs she didn't even enjoy, to pay for bills she wished she didn't have. She wasn't even able to pursue a career in art, which had been her dream for years.

Sitting at the coffee shop she worked at, Heejung stared off, her thoughts completely drifting. She was tired, and felt as thought she was about to fall asleep at any moment. At least it was her break time.

Had it really been three whole years since that fateful day when her past became an endless sea of questions? Her head still ached when she thought about it. She had uncovered bits and pieces. She had gone to school for a business degree, but her dream was to become an artist. Her mother was someone who wanted nothing to do with her anymore, and when she reached out to ask why, she received no answers.

She was 24 now, and the questions she had about her past still greatly outnumbered the answers. Her thoughts drifted to the notebook. Yes, that was also one of the only links she had to the past. And yet, it seemed to only raise even more questions. Who was this person who had written the heartfelt note inside that felt like a fairytale?

" _If you long for it...we will surely meet again, okay?"_

That single phrase stuck with her the most. Of course she longed for it, more than anyone could possibly know, but it seemed all the efforts she made were only in vain.

She unconsciously twisted the silver ring on her finger, another relic from her past, staring out the coffee shop window at all the people passing by. It was dark outside, but her eyes still scanned the faces of every person walking by. Any of those people could potentially be the person she was supposed to find. Guilt formed a familiar pit in her stomach, and she mentally reminded herself that right now, at this moment, what was important was establishing herself and her life.

Her watch began to beep. Fifteen minutes was already up? Sighing, she stood and picked up the apron from the seat next to her, tying it around her waist and heading behind the coffee shop counter to continue her shift. Three more hours. Then she could go home and get some much needed sleep before her morning shift at the bookstore tomorrow.

And so the endless cycle continued.


	2. Chapter 1

AN: Posting this directly after the intro, although this chapter I'm more nervous about. Apologies once again if Jiwoo/Miran seems really out of character!

* * *

The scent of coffee filled the living room on the top floor of an apartment complex. The room was immaculately clean and organized, modern furniture adorning the space in light and dark colors. Although the space was spotless, in the kitchen next door, the bar counter top was covered in paperwork. Sitting at the counter atop a bar stool, a young man with messy golden blonde hair was hunched over his laptop, hurriedly typing out a series of emails to important clients. Without his eyes leaving the screen, he reached over to lift his coffee mug, but instead tipped it slightly. A splash of dark liquid landed on the paperwork in front of him, and he quickly jumped up, nearly falling backwards off the stool.

He gave an exasperated sigh and checked to make sure the coffee had not landed on his expensive slacks or button-down shirt. Luckily, it hadn't. He rushed to the shelves in the kitchen, and grabbed a hand towel, quickly cleaning up the coffee on the counter and paperwork.

"Well... those are ruined for sure now," he spoke softly, but in a frustrated voice. Tossing the papers into the trash, he opened up the files on his laptop and began to print them off again.

He sat on the stool once more, taking off his white-framed glasses and rubbing his temple. Sighing again, he closed his eyes tightly for a moment and shut the laptop in front of him. Today was starting to become disappointing, and the day had really only just begun. Rolling up his sleeve, he checked his watch, which showed it was just past 8:00 in the morning. He had to be at work at 9:00, but as he lived fairly close by, he still had plenty of time beforehand.

"Now that I have an excuse, I'll go to the bookstore, then." he decided, picking up his glasses and replacing them on his face.

He stood up once more, walking towards his office to pick up the papers he had printed off. He stuffed them into his briefcase, along with his laptop, and finished off the rest of his coffee, placing the dirty mug into the sink. He reached for the black trilby hat sitting on a rack next to his front door and placed it on his head before walking out and locking the door behind him.

Three years ago, his life had changed so drastically he had almost been sure that he would never establish it again. Coming from such a successful background, and being the son of a wealthy bank owner where he used to live, he had no idea how he could even begin to comprehend starting over. It hadn't been easy, that was certain, but he told himself every single day that it would someday all be worth it.

Not to mention the transition to becoming human had been a struggle all in its own. Sometimes he still found himself reaching up to make sure the spotted rabbit ears that used to adorn his head were not there anymore. Human ears were quite strange as well, he had discovered, making him miss his old ears.

Miran. That was the name he had been given by his father, who had adopted him from an orphanage when he was very young. He grew up assuming he was of the same blood and family of his father, and expected that someday he would take over his successful bank. Years of studying had gone to waste, however, when his father passed away, and his mother unlovingly informed him that he was adopted. He was kicked out at the young age of 18, and left to fend for himself. It still stung to think about it sometimes.

And then his life took a ridiculous turn when he was greeted by a wizard who told him he could grant any wish for him if he participated in a 'game'. Fueled by anger and revenge, his only wish was to see his family's business fail. When he thought about it now, it made him sick. He had definitely matured quite a bit since that point in his life. The 'game', which he assumed would be a simple task that would be over quickly, and he initially didn't intend to win, turned out to be both the most important event in his life, and the saddest.

He could still remember the moments they shared together, and most clearly, her clueless tendencies. He came to her as an animal, and when he left her, he felt he was a changed person who had become more human. He wished every single day that he had tried a bit harder, that he hadn't been so off-putting, that he had made his feelings more obvious. Even thinking about it now, he felt a tinge of sadness. It had been three years, and still he was unable to reach her on a personal level.

It wasn't as though he didn't have the opportunity. She worked at the bookstore he visited constantly. Was it his nerves? Probably. Was it fear of never being able to connect with her again? That was likely. It had been so long, he simply assumed that she had probably moved on with her life. A pretty girl like her most likely had no issues finding a suitable mate. And what if she had never discovered the notebook he left? That was another thought that constantly crossed his mind. The only thing that reassured him was the fact that she had definitely wished him back into this world, and that meant that she truly, deep down, cared about him.

As he began to reach the sidewalk in front of the bookstore, his heart started to beat faster. This happened every single time he approached the building, without fail. He sighed, "Don't act stupid..." he mumbled under his breath, quickly walking inside the building. He headed to the same section as always, the romance novels. Glancing around at the titles in front of him, he tried to find one he didn't own already. With how often he visited and purchased books, he was starting to feel the selection was becoming dull and repetitive.

His eyes began to skim past the books, and around to his surroundings. He was started to feel creepy, as he had come to memorize her schedule every single day. She had to be around here somewhere, she was always working the morning shift. His eyes finally landed on the counter where the cash register was located. There she was, on cashier duty. She was normally on restocking duty, quickly running around the store, making it hard for him to find an excuse to talk to her. But there she was behind the cash register. Her brown hair was pulled back from her face with a pink headband, and she was dressed in a pretty peter-pan collared lilac dress. Heejung.

His heart skipped a beat, and he had to force himself to turn his attention back to the books. He didn't want to look creepy, although he probably already appeared that way since he was in here almost every single day. He skimmed the books again, picking out a random one that he didn't already own. _Splintered Roses_? It sounded decent, although the title could definitely use improvement. He held it in his hands, nervously preparing himself to walk up to the cash register, "Stop acting like an imbecile. Act normal for once," he whispered to himself again, heading to the front.

She greeted him with a smile. Of course she did. She was always so cheerful when encountering people, "Did you find everything okay?"

He found himself staring into her bright, caramel-colored eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally answered, "Y-Yes, thank you..." he placed the book on the counter, reaching his shaking hand into his pocket for his wallet.

"That's good to hear!" Heejung rang up the purchase, letting him know the total.

He paid her quickly, his hand lingering over hers and finally dropping to the countertop. His mind raced, trying to find a way to stall the situation, "Um... c-can I ask a question?"

She smiled, "Of course!"

His mouth hanging open, he was sure he looked like an idiot at this moment, when it finally hit him, "Do you have any art books here that you recommend? I work at an art museum, you see..."

While the latter part certainly wasn't a lie, he felt embarrassed. He definitely didn't look like the kind of guy who was interested in art. However, the girl nodded excitedly, "Yes! I definitely have some recommendations! What specifically are you interested in?"

"Well... I'm responsible for finding the next artist to be featured in the museum this season, so I guess a book about some modern, up-and-coming artists would be perfect," he spoke confidently this time, although truthfully, he didn't need help with this at all. He already had a selection of artists picked out to be featured. He then suddenly decided that bragging may be a good angle in this situation, knowing Heejung's feelings on art, "I'm the CEO, so it's quite an important task for me to get done."

Her eyes widened, "Woah..." mouth agape, she was silent for a moment, and then composed herself again, "...That's impressive! Yes, I'll give you a list real quick," she began to jot down some titles of books on a post-it note and handed it to him.

"This is perfect..." he stared at the note and carefully placed it into the breast pocket on his shirt, "I should get to work now," although he said this, he stood still, his eyes searching her face, and sweat forming on his brow, "Th-Thank you, Heejung."

With that, he quickly headed to the front door, leaving the building feeling as though he would pass out. Whether she had noticed him say her name or not, he didn't know. He wasn't even sure if that would creep her out or not, some guy she didn't know calling her by her name. For all he knew, she was probably wearing a name tag, anyway.

He checked his watch; 8:30. No need to rush to work. The walk would only take about fifteen minutes. Suddenly, it hit him. He hadn't picked up the book he bought. Stopping in his tracks, he slammed his palm into his forehead, "Idiot! Stupid!" he exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of some people walking by.

He let out a long and obvious sigh, thinking to himself, _I can't go back now. She'll think I'm crazy or something. I guess it's not a huge waste of money, anyway._ Instead, he continued to walk to work. He wasn't even that stuck on the novel he had bought to begin with. It would just give him another excuse to return to the store again, anyway. As if he needed a excuse.


	3. Chapter 2

Heejung grabbed her belongings in the back room at work, quickly placing her name tag inside her locker. Before walking out of the employee lounge, she stopped at the mirror on one of the walls, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. These were becoming normal, but it wasn't getting any easier to accept them. She hated going to her second job in the evenings looking as she she had gotten no sleep at all, but she realized she needed to accept it.

She checked her watch and begrudgingly started to head out of the back room. After giving a chipper goodbye to the other employees at the front of the store, she walked out the front door. Once outside, she glanced into her bag, making sure she grabbed everything. Phone, wallet, and that book the man had left behind. She chuckled to herself, and closed her bag again.

The book store had many frequent shoppers, and that blonde haired man was one of them. When she had first started working there, Heejung assumed him to be a foreigner, because he certainly didn't look Korean. However, the more she saw him perusing the aisles of books, the more she started to realize he couldn't possibly be from out of town because he was there so often. The more she watched him from afar during work, the more she started to notice little things about him. To start, the golden blonde shade of his hair that she knew couldn't possibly be dyed, and if it had, it was the most flawless dye job she had seen. That, paired with his strange mannerisms and the way he often strutted around as though he was royalty, piqued her interest.

He was always looking at the romance novels, which baffled Heejung. How could someone be so into corny books like that? She had seen him perusing the aisles many times before, but today had been the first time she had interacted with him. To say he seemed a bit odd was an understatement, but she didn't really pay any mind to that. He looked so professional and mature that she felt she had no right to poke fun at him for acting a bit odd towards her, especially since he worked at her favorite place in the world: the art museum. She realized that she could have left the book behind, since he was there so often, but now that she knew where he worked, she decided bringing it to him personally would be a nice gesture.

She walked for a bit, and finally stopped at a food stand for a bite to eat. These were the only opportunities she had to eat nowadays, and she often feared that her health would start to get worse from eating food like this so often. It was just another thing she would need to accept, she assumed.

When she arrived to her second job, the coffee shop, she threw away the trash from her dinner, and stepped inside. It was only 5:50, she was ten minutes early. Getting used to the time in between jobs would become easier, she knew. However, it was only her fifth day working at this second job.

She greeted the girl at the counter, who was making coffee, and stepped into the back, pulling her apron and name tag out from her personal locker and putting them on. She sat down at the table in the back, leaning her head on it and trying to savor these ten minutes of peace. She had a feeling tonight would be a long night.

* * *

Her feelings were correct; the night seemed to move at the pace of a slug, and when it finally hit 9:00, she happily realized she only had an hour and a half left. As it hit this time of night, the coffee shop always became empty, with only the occasional visitor.

She was leaning on the counter, her eyes drooping. She knew that she needed to do some kind of activity to keep herself awake. She grabbed a rag from underneath the counter and walked around to the various tables, wiping them off even though they didn't really seem to need it.

Finally, after complete silence for quite a while, she heard the bell hanging from the front door jingle, signaling someone had come in. She glanced to the door, and did a double take. Strolling in as though he had important business to take care of was the same man from this morning, his shirt and slacks still looking perfectly pressed and clean. She noticed the briefcase swinging at his side. _He really must be someone important_ , she thought.

She could hear him ordering, "Just a large cafe latte," he sounded stressed, and she wondered if it was because of his job. She definitely envied him for holding such an important position, especially at an art museum, although she assumed it must be tiring.

He sat at a table in the back corner of the shop, pulling out a laptop from his briefcase and immediately fixing his gaze on the screen. Heejung grabbed the rag she was using and walked to the back, placing it in a bin with other dirty rags. Walking back out to the counter, the other girl working was just finishing the man's coffee, and was about to call out to him. Heejung interrupted her, "I'll take it to him, he looks really busy."

Nodding in agreement, the girl handed her the large cup, and Heejung carefully carried it towards the back table. She placed it down in front of the man, who, without lifting his eyes, mumbled, "Thanks."

Knowing that the shop wasn't too busy, Heejung sat down across from the man, "You know you left that book behind this morning, right?" she stated with a slight giggle.

Still not looking up, the man mumbled again, "What...? What are you going on abou-" he finally looked up, suddenly jumping in his seat, and he became silent.

Heejung gave him a puzzled look, "Are you okay? I was just going to offer to bring you the book."

She had to admit, he looked quite silly. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, and his mouth was hanging open as if he had never seen another human being before. She decided to continue, "After you said you worked at the museum, I thought maybe I could just bring it to you personally. But now that you're here, I can bring it out to you, if you want. I have it in the back."

She stood, not waiting for an answer, and headed to the back room. Miran was so overcome with emotions that he couldn't form words. As Heejung walked away, he finally snapped out of his trance and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He had a chance to talk to her, and he couldn't even properly form words.

Putting his glasses on again, he took a deep breath. He had to think. There had to be something logical he could say that wouldn't frighten her.

She quickly returned, holding out the book to him, "You still wanted it, right?"

She looked so puzzled, he felt guilty for acting so strange in front of her. He grabbed the book and placed it next to his laptop, "Yes, I did," he spoke quietly, "I'm... sorry, I'm just a bit tired. It's been a long day."

She smiled, and his heart began to pound even quicker, "You can say that again," she said knowingly, "By the way, did you look over the list of books I suggested?"

He quickly lifted his hand to check his breast pocket, and with horror, noticed the note was gone, "I..." he checked his pants pockets, still unable to find it, "I guess it must have fallen out of my pocket... Would you mind writing the list down again?" he asked, pulling a piece of blank paper and a pen out of his briefcase.

Any excuse to have her sit with him some more. It would give him more time to think of the right things to say. She happily obliged, and sat down once more across from him, jotting down the titles again. He stared at her, feeling as though he would explode with emotions. Why was it so hard for him to tell her everything? He knew doing something like that would probably scare her away. He had worked so hard to get to where he was at this moment, he didn't want to ruin everything he was working towards.

She scooted the paper and pen to him, "Don't lose it again, okay?" she joked, starting to stand up again.

He reached out to her, his fingers barely brushing her arm, but just enough to make her stop, "Wait!"

Startled by his sudden outburst, she looked at him questioningly, and he continued, "Are you, by chance, interested in art yourself?"

Of course he knew the answer to this. And it was precisely his knowledge of her answer that was the reason why he was doing this.

Her eyes seemed to sparkle, "I love art! It's my dream to pursue it... but..." she paused, waiting for him to cut her off, but continued, "I just have a lot of debt and bills to pay off. So I'm working two jobs instead."

Leaning back and finally composing himself and his emotions, Miran tried to sound as professional as he could, "Well... I'm currently looking for an intern to work at the museum. I just found out about the opportunity today, and, well, you might be a decent fit. Because of our conversation this morning, I assume you know quite a bit about art. Would you possibly be interested?"

His heart beat even faster. Everything was riding on this moment, and he hoped she would not turn him down.

She thought for a moment, and spoke in a disappointed tone, "You have no idea how much that means to me, but..." she moved her gaze to the floor, "I wouldn't have the time. I can't afford to quit a job, you know. And you must have someone else who's better qualified in mind..."

His mind raced, trying to think of any possible solution to make her accept. He hadn't even approved this idea, but he had no other option, "What if it's a paid internship?"

One thing he had plenty of was money, and paying her to spend time with him every day, as odd as that probably sounded, was something he had no problem with. Her expression changed completely, "...Really?"

She looked completely dumbfounded. That face was so familiar to Miran, he couldn't help the smile on his face, "Of course. If you're truly interested in it, then I'm sure you'd do a decent job. Decent enough to be paid, anyway."

Heejung practically glowed, "You have no idea how much this means to me!" It looked as though tears were starting to well up in her eyes.

Reaching into his briefcase, Miran pulled out one of his business cards, handing it to her, "Take this, and call me when you have a day free, so we can talk about it."

He was surprised he was able to talk so calmly in this moment. It was probably because he knew that in the near future, she would very likely be spending time with him every day, working by his side. He knew that this was probably the key to regaining what they had in the past, and that made his heart swell.

Heejung took the card, hurriedly putting it in her pocket and lunging forward to grab his hand and shake it, "Thank you so much!"

Hanging on that moment, Miran gripped her hand firmly, memories of the past forming in his mind. He remembered how often he had insisted on holding her hand back then; at the movies, the beach, the park...

"You're welcome."

He said this softly, although he knew that he should be the one thanking her.


	4. Chapter 3

Miran was sitting in his apartment, reading the novel he had picked up from the bookstore. The story was a bit dull compared to the ones he had read in the past, but he supposed it was a good enough placeholder until he could find a better one. It told the story of a young woman who was in love with a man who, unbeknownst to her, had killed her entire family. The man himself didn't even know the woman was a part of the family he had murdered. Although, if he had to predict, Miran guessed that he would find out eventually, and the woman would end up becoming conflicted by both feelings of love and hate.

As he was reading, his phone, lying on the table in front of him, began to ring. Jumping in his seat, he dropped the book on the floor and picked up the phone quickly. It was an unknown number, but he felt confident that he knew who it was, "Hello?" he answered, trying to sound calm.

"Hi, Miran? This is Heejung. You asked me about an internship yesterday...?"

He couldn't control the smile forming on his face, "Yes, good to hear from you."

"I quit my job at the coffee shop, and the book store said I could change my hours if that was necessary."

"Wonderful. You're officially accepting the internship, then? You'll be working with me everyday. It's paperwork intensive, but you get to be amongst artwork every day, and help choose artists to be featured in the future."

"Of course I'm accepting! I'll do whatever I need to do! When do you need me to work?"

Happy that she was so eager, his smile grew, "I'll have you working the same hours as me every day. How does 9-6:30 sound?"

"That sounds great! When do I start?"

"Is tomorrow okay?" He still hadn't approved the internship, but he wanted so desperately to be with her that he didn't really care.

She agreed to the start date, and after a few more 'thank you's, she hung up. Miran slowly put his phone back on the table, feeling tears forming in his eyes. Frustrated by his own emotions, he wiped them away, "Now I'm crying like an idiot," he criticized himself.

Needless to say, he had a difficult time sleeping that night. And, a few blocks away, Heejung had a difficult time as well.

She could feel the nerves creating a knot in her stomach. Was she really cut out to be working with the CEO of her favorite museum? She doubted it, but somehow, she guessed he had seen something in her, even though they had only spoken twice.

She rolled on her side, closing her eyes and trying desperately to fall asleep. It would be a shame if she was tired tomorrow, she didn't want to disappoint Miran at all on her first day working with him.

* * *

Morning came, and Heejung stood in front of her closet, stressing to find an outfit that looked professional. She ended up choosing a black button-down top, along with a pair of black jeans. She pulled her hair back into a high ponytail, and pinned her bangs back with a hair pin. Quickly applying a light coat of makeup, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door, nerves starting to hit her again.

When she arrived at the museum, doubt swelled up inside her again. Was this really happening? She pinched her arm, _Yep, this is real. This is actually happening,_ she thought, stepping into the front doors to the museum.

She glanced around, hoping to find Miran. However, she didn't see any sign of him. She stepped towards the front desk, where a disgruntled looking older woman was sitting, "Excuse me?"

At Heejung's quiet voice, the woman looked her up and down, "Did you need something?"

"I'm here for an internship, with the CEO, Miran?"

The woman's eyes widened, confusion filling her face, "Internship? I think you're mistaken. Miran doesn't have the time for internships. You must have the wrong museum."

Heejung's face burned with embarrassment, "N-No... I specifically was told-"

"Nari, she's with me," a voice came from the doors behind Heejung, "No need to question her so much."

She turned around, and saw Miran had just arrived. He was dressed in another button-down, this time a navy blue shade, with a black tie around his neck and matching suspenders, complimented by black slacks that, again, looked perfectly pressed and tailored. He still had his briefcase in his hand, and the same black hat adorned his head.

The woman, whose name was apparently Nari, still looked confused, but regarded Miran with respect, "Sorry, sir."

Miran looked at Heejung and motioned for her to follow him, "Ready?"

Although still extremely nervous, she nodded, and followed him through a series of hallways containing beautiful artwork. If these were all pieces he had personally picked out, she could tell he had wonderful taste. This only heightened her excitement to be working next to him.

They finally stepped inside an office that was easily almost the size of Heejung's apartment. Although, that wasn't saying much since it wasn't very large in the first place. "Wow... this is so nice," she exclaimed, looking around in wonder.

The dark brown walls were adorned in several expensive looking paintings of nature and wildlife, a chandelier hung from the center of the room, underneath which was a couch and a couple armchairs, complimented perfectly with a dark cedar coffee table in the middle. His desk was of the same material, and it could easily seat five people all at once.

Miran continued to his desk, placing his briefcase on top and starting to empty its contents, "It is, but it gets a bit lonely sometimes. I'll be happy to have some company for a while."

His smile comforted her, and her nerves started to subside. She sat down on the couch in the middle of the room, removing her purse and waiting for instructions. She was shocked when she didn't receive any immediately.

Finally, Miran called her name, and she stepped towards his desk. He patted a stool next to him, "Here, have a seat," She obediently sat, and he handed her a stack of papers, "Could you sort these in order of last name?"

Nodding, Heejung shuffled through the papers, "What exactly are these?"

"They're possible future additions to the museum. Someday, you'll get to help me decide which of these gets featured, if you'd like."

Smiling, she became even more excited, "So I'm getting to see the artwork before it even gets featured!"

Miran nodded, "Essentially, yes. If there's any you particularly like, feel free to mark them somehow."

Heejung began to work immediately, becoming so engrossed that she was silent for quite some time.

Meanwhile, Miran was having a difficult time focusing on his work. She was so close, all he wanted to do was embrace her. Every once in a while, he would look up from his own paperwork, staring at her. It was adorable how focused she was, how much she truly cared about the work she was doing. Her delicate hands flipping through the pages, the soft smile on her face, her eyes full of excitement and wonder...

For the first time in a while, he felt happy. He knew there was still a long way to go before they could be the way they were years ago, but he suddenly was able to accept that, as long as there could be moments like this.

* * *

The sound of the phone on Miran's desk startled both him and Heejung. He turned to the phone, noticed it was a call from his secretary, and quickly picked up, "Yes?"

"This is your lunch call, Miran. Do you want your usual?"

Was it really already lunch time? He checked his watch to confirm the time, "Yeah, just the usual. And double that order, I have company."

"Oooh, company? Alright, then..."

Heejung looked up from the papers she was sorting, "You get lunch calls?"

Miran nodded, thinking, _It's so silly how she always asks questions that have such obvious answers. Maybe she hasn't changed all that much._

"Most of the time I have so much work to do I don't have time to step out and grab something to eat. Do you mind salad?" He realized he hadn't even thought to ask her before confirming with his secretary.

"Salad is fine," she answered, "That's a much healthier option than what I would normally get to eat."

After working for a bit longer, there was a knock on the office door, to which Miran answered, "Come in."

Heejung looked up from her work to see a woman looking to be about 30 stroll into the office with a paper bag in one hand, "For once, could you possibly get up from your desk to let me in, like a real gentleman?" she teased.

Heejung suddenly felt tense, as this was the first time she heard someone speaking to Miran without complete respect and obedience. However, as the woman continued walking into the office, she noticed that Miran seemed to be completely ignoring her.

The woman was dressed in a tight purple dress that reached just above her knees, with black pumps and gold jewelry adorning her arms, neck, and ears. Her long, wavy, hair was a pretty blonde shade that also appeared obviously dyed, and was complimented by the red shade on her lips. Heejung suddenly felt extremely self conscious, especially as the woman got closer to the desk and set the bag down.

"Well, it's nice to see you too. Glad we have our basic manners down, Miran," she teased, leaning over the desk.

Miran finally looked up, giving her a neutral look, "Don't you see I'm busy? It would be polite of you to wait until I'm done writing something," he took a second to finish off whatever it was he was writing, and then crossed his arms on the desk in front of him, "Was there anything else, Yumi?"

The woman, Yumi, stared at him for a moment, a smirk slowly starting to form on her face, "...Nope," she suddenly stood up straight again, her eyes finally noticing Heejung, "Who's this?"

"This is Heejung," Miran stated in an impatient tone.

"How sweet, where did you find her? Some high school art club?" the woman laughed, looking Heejung up and down as if judging every aspect of her appearance.

Heejung's face became red, and as much as she wanted to respond, she kept quiet. Miran frowned, "No," he said firmly, "She's my intern."

Her embarrassment faded away after he introduced her, and she smiled. Meanwhile, Yumi continued to regard Heejung with judgmental eyes, "I see," she leaned down towards Heejung, quieting her tone and winking, "Be careful around him. He doesn't talk that nicely about everyone else. I think he likes younger women."

Taken aback, Heejung blushed, unable to form words. What in the world did she mean by that? Yumi straightened up again, giving one last teasing glance at Miran before heading out of the office and shutting the door behind her. Heejung was completely silent, unsure of what to say in a situation like this. Maybe she really wasn't cut out for this internship. After what seemed like ages of silence, Miran finally coughed, followed by an apology, "Don't mind Yumi. She comes across quite strong sometimes," He reached for the paper bag and stood, "Let's go eat. You must be starving."

Still unsure of what to say, Heejung followed Miran to the coffee table in the center of the room, sitting across from him on a chair that felt too comfortable to be real. The two ate in silence, and although the salad was the tastiest thing Heejung had eaten in a while, she felt nauseous. Something about Yumi had really bothered her. Was it her jealously? Maybe it was the fact that most people she had seen working at the museum looked so professional and mature, and she knew she would never be able to achieve that. _"Be careful around him,"_ she had said, _"I think he likes younger women."_ What was that even supposed to mean? Was this something Miran did frequently, picking young women as interns? Just how old was he anyway? She suddenly felt worried.

"Miran?"

She spoke so quietly she almost assumed he didn't even hear her, but he looked up immediately, "Yes?"

"I hope this isn't an odd question, but I'm just curious because you have such a great career. How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm 21," he said simply.

Heejung's eyes widened in shock, "21? Really? But you're so young, how did you land this job?" She honestly couldn't believe that she was actually three years older than him.

"A lot of hard work and dedication," he looked up, meeting her eyes, _You honestly have no idea how much hard work and dedication, but I wish you did,_ he thought.

"I see..." she poked at the small amount of salad still left over with her fork, "How long have you been working here?"

"I started three years ago, after I moved here to Busan. I was the son of a wealthy bank owner where I originally lived, but I decided to move here to... start a new life. I was originally just working as an assistant at this very museum, but the CEO at that point noticed my work ethic and said that he felt I was the most accomplished, and wanted me to take over after he unfortunately passed away."

"That's impressive," Heejung stared at him again, completely enthralled by his story.

"There were a lot of negative feelings at first. Most of the other employees despised me for jumping so far ahead of them. I think that now they've accepted it, though. The museum has never been so successful, after all," he continued, pride beginning to fill his voice.

"Well, Yumi certainly seems to like you," Heejung teased, trying to make light of the awkward encounter.

Miran frowned, "Don't fall for her cheery disposition. She's quite stupid. She doesn't even enjoy art. I'm not sure how she's gotten to be a secretary at an art museum."

"You said you moved here three years ago? And started a new life? It's funny, we have that in common. I suffered from amnesia three years ago and had to basically start my life over," Heejung explained, happy that she finally felt like she could talk to someone about her experience.

Silent for a moment, Miran finally responded, "Really? So you know nothing of your life before that, then?" It pained him to not be able to tell her he already knew.

She shook her head, "No, nothing. It's been tough. My family wouldn't even claim me. That's why I was forced to put art on the back burner, I needed to pay for hospital bills and school loans. I remember bits and pieces, but nothing recent. Only that I have a business degree."

Although Miran was perfectly aware of all this, he still hung on every word she said, looking at her with grief in his eyes, "Well, I hope this experience helps you through that."

Smiling, Heejung nodded, "I think it will. Thank you again."

After they finished eating, the two continued working in silence. Even though Miran wanted to talk with her, he felt that even sitting with her in silence was good enough for the time being. The day went by quickly, and suddenly it was already 6:30.

"Already time to go," Miran stood from his desk, opening his briefcase and setting a stack of papers inside, "Did you enjoy your first day?"

Heejung, who had just finished up the last stack that needed to be alphabetized, spoke excitedly, "Yeah, I had a really good time! Did you want me to come again tomorrow?"

"Of course, if you're up for it. You can just meet me in my office tomorrow if you like, I'll let the front desk and Yumi know that they can let you back here."

He was already trusting her enough to come into his office on her own? That alone was enough to make her grin, "Okay, I'll be here tomorrow then."

The two left the building together, and waved goodbye as they parted ways to walk to their apartments. Miran smiled to himself as he walked alone, feeling as though things were finally, hopefully, coming together. And Heejung did the same, feeling as though her life could possibly start unfolding the way she had always wanted it to.


	5. Chapter 4

AN: Hi! Haven't gotten any feedback just yet, but I'm just gonna keep updating this every few days since I have probably around 13 chapters completely done. Again, apologies if either Heejung or Miran/Jiwoo seem out of character. I've been trying not to stress about it too much, considering that this takes place a few years after Heejung's amnesia. Judging by that, both of them are bound to change slightly, anyway (especially Miran, who I assume would mature quite a bit after having to make a new life for himself all of a sudden). Speaking of, I have a complete backstory that explains how he established himself after arriving back in the human world, but I'm unsure exactly where to place it chapter-wise. Anyway, I'm just rambling now! C:

* * *

Time passed quickly as Heejung continued her internship with Miran. It was so successful, in fact, that she was able to quit her book store job as well, and dedicate all her time to helping Miran with his duties every single day. She suddenly began to have free time as well, often pulling out a sketchbook when she got home after working at the museum, and drawing effortlessly. The job was good inspiration, as she was able to see so much artwork every single day. It really was the perfect situation for her.

Her mood improved, her health improved, and her overall life seemed to be improving as well. Some of the employees at the museum, especially Yumi, still seemed unsure of her, but she had a trusting and sweet friendship with Miran, who had turned out to be much nicer of a person than she originally expected. Everyone around the museum always acted as though he was scary, and talked about him in hushed tones, claiming he never gave out compliments or spoke nicely of others. Upon first working with him, she feared he would be strict and unforgiving, only judging by his high position at the museum and the things others had said. She even forgot most of the time that she was actually older that him.

However, while he was strict sometimes, especially as they got closer, she began to appreciate him even more. He wasn't afraid to point out the flaws in her work, and she was starting to become okay with that. How else did she expect to improve and become successful like him someday? He was honest, sometimes brutally, and she noticed he often got a temper quite easily with other employees. While he did make her nervous sometimes, he always left the museum at night thanking her and telling her he was excited to get more work done the next day.

Sometimes, she felt herself longing to become closer with him, to find out more about him. He was always so eager to hear about her life and experiences, but when it came to him, he would shift the subject back to her most of the time. She had come to accept that getting closer to him might be wrong anyway, as he was her boss, and, if she was honest with herself, he was much too good for her.

Months had passed, and as more time went on, their days together became less silent, and more interactive. They would often have conversations about artists they both liked, upcoming exhibitions that they were excited for, and sometimes just life in general.

It was a chilly early October morning, and Heejung was sketching before having to leave for work. Her eyes drifted around her room, looking for a source of inspiration. Her eyes finally fell on her book shelf, and ultimately to the dusty brown notebook. She had honestly forgotten about it again. Guilt washed over her as she slowly brought it down in front of her.

The pages were still thin and torn, covered with quickly written words that still only sounded like a fairy tale. She still hadn't found whoever had written it. Maybe someone had placed it in her room as a prank, just to mess with her after her amnesia. She sighed, skimming through the words she had read countless times. Where was this guy? If he was real, why hadn't he reached out to her by now?

She was desperate to move on from it, to not have the silly notebook weighing her down in the back of her mind, as endearing and sweet as it was.

" _And...about your mapping out a new life... You're working hard on it, right?"_

Her eyes lingered over the sentence, and she smiled. She was working as hard as she possibly could.

" _If you have lost your memories by calling me to this world, I promise I will come to find you. I'll appear in front of you as a better man. Far more better than just a rich guy."_

What did it even mean? 'Calling me to this world'? Her head started to ache, but she continued skimming the words in front of her.

" _So please wait for me until I come back for you."_

She quickly shut the notebook, a mixture of sadness and frustration filling her, "How patient do I need to be? How much longer do I need to wait?" she whispered, setting the book aside and trying to ignore it.

It wasn't as though dating was even that important to her at this moment, anyway. Work was her number one priority, and she would have hated to let a relationship get in the way of that. However, she could sometimes feel herself longing to have what the couples had that were passing by her every day and night while walking to and from work.

Speaking of work, it was time to leave. She stood, grabbing her purse and quickly heading out of her apartment, lines from the notebook still resonating and repeating in her head.

She hoped that today would provide enough distraction.

* * *

"What do you mean you can't get them in on time? I need those pieces within a month!"

Heejung sat at Miran's desk silently, watching the frustrated blonde pacing back and forth in his office, phone glued to his ear. His stress levels were out the window today, and she assumed it was because of the big upcoming art show.

"Well, what do you expect me to do then? I can't just magically conjure up pieces to replace them! Yes, I'm angry! Are you stupid? Fix it, or there will be consequences, understood?"

He removed the phone from his ear, and threw it down on the coffee table, continuing to pace. Heejung wanted so desperately to say something to comfort him, but knew that her silence was probably the best option for now. This was the first time she noticed him looking a bit disheveled. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his hair was messier than normal, and his tie was loosened around his neck.

He sat down on the couch in front of the coffee table, his hands digging into his hair and removing his glasses, "I'm sorry you have to hear all this."

Heejung stood and slowly walked over to sit on the chair across from Miran, "It's alright. Is everything okay?" She knew the answer was no, but she thought comforting him about the situation might make it better.

He looked up, and without his glasses on, she could see just how green his eyes were, although instead of the usual pride and confidence they showed, at this moment they were filled with irritation. "The artist that was supposed to be featured in the upcoming show is basically backing out. He says he can't get all the pieces to us in time. If this is true, we'll be missing about ten paintings. So no, everything is not okay."

"Well... can't you just call some artists and find paintings otherwise?"

"I could... but the quality would be lower. They probably wouldn't be originals, just pieces that people have already seen before. Specifically for this show, we need originals, and most artists I know can't paint that many pieces within a month's time," obvious stress filled his expression again, "If I don't get this figured out, my job could be on the line."

Hesitantly, Heejung reached over to place her hand on his shoulder, "I know you'll figure this out, Miran," she offered him a warm smile.

She was the only one capable of relieving his stress in moments like this, and he was so happy that after a few months working together, they had become close again. It gave him hope that everything could be pieced back together, "I'll figure it out. With your help, of course. In fact, since I'm thinking about it, if the artist really doesn't get all his pieces to us in time, would you like to paint something for the show?"

Taken aback, Heejung was silent for a moment, and finally uttered, "Are... you sure about that? But I'm not even in the same caliber as the artists you show."

"Better than no painting at all, right?" he shrugged, "Besides, your art style fits perfectly. I won't accept no for an answer."

"Alright, I'll do it," she was unsure of her abilities, but she decided accepting would be the best option. Besides, having her art in a show like this would be a great opportunity for her to get her name out there.

* * *

When Heejung returned home that night, she hurried to her room to start on the painting she could potentially be showing in the upcoming show. Her excitement was hard to contain, but she found that she was thinking so hard about it, she had no idea what to even begin painting.

She knew that the theme was the winter season, which was a blessing since her specialty seemed to be nature in general. Maybe just a snowy landscape with some trees? A white-capped mountain? Or the city of Busan itself, covered in a thick sheet of snow? For some reason, none of these ideas seemed right. She sat in deep thought for a while, finding that she still couldn't come up with any ideas she felt confident in or loved.

Tapping the mechanical pencil in her hand against her lips, she glanced around her room, hoping to find something potentially inspiring. She pulled down several art books, flipping through them and continually feeling uninspired. Finally her eyes fell on the brown notebook again.

In a stroke of genius, she suddenly grabbed it and began flipping through it, "That's it!" she exclaimed, and a thought crossed her mind, _If I do a piece dedicated to whoever left this notebook, maybe they would see it at the art show._

It was definitely a long shot, she knew, but deep in her heart she felt this could be one of her only chances to personally reach out in an effort to find this person.

"If this doesn't work, I'm moving on," she stated firmly to herself, "I can't wait around for the rest of my life, right?"

Sure of her decision, she started flipping through the notebook again, unsure of how many times she had done this before.

* * *

The month passed quickly, and Miran's stress only seemed to heighten. Heejung was there for him every step of the way, though, and eventually they were able to round up paintings to replace the works that wouldn't come in on time. It was about a week before the show when Miran and Heejung were sitting in his office like normal, each working diligently on paperwork that needed to be done. Heejung was seated opposite of Miran, so focused he thought that if he were to speak, he would startle her.

He looked up, letting out a small cough to get her attention, "So... did you finish up that painting I asked you to do?"

She glanced up, looking confused, "I thought you had replacements for everything?" Heejung had finished the painting, and was quite pleased with it, but had ultimately assumed there would be no room for it after all.

Miran raised an eyebrow, "And you thought, after I specifically asked you to paint something, that I wouldn't leave extra room for it?" He could tell that, even though she had matured a lot in some ways, she still had a clueless sense about her, and it drove him crazy sometimes.

"I didn't really think about it, to be honest," she blushed, embarrassed, "I did finish something, though."

"Good, good," he returned to his paperwork, "Just bring it in the night before, when we're setting everything up."

Nerves took over her again. What if it wasn't as good as the rest of the pieces? She wanted desperately to have it shown, but part of her was scared it would legitimately disappoint Miran, who probably had extremely high expectations of the art he showed. It wasn't the best piece of art she had ever made, but it most certainly was the one she had the most emotional investment in. When she looked at it, something in her felt complete.

She returned to the paperwork, trying her best to ignore the nagging thoughts in her head.

* * *

The night before the art show, the museum was bustling with employees all trying to make everything look perfect. Miran was, of course, calling the shots, and was so busy Heejung almost never found a moment to speak with him before leaving for the night. She had come by just to drop off her painting, since Miran had told her to stay home for the night because of the long day of work tomorrow.

As soon as her painting was hung, she was told by an employee to go find Miran and have the placement approved by him. Heejung quickly set off, walking through the seemingly endless hallways trying to find him. Finally, she recognized a shouting voice down a hallway to her right, "Who is calling the shots here? Have some respect and stop nagging me, I have a lot of work to do!"

Miran was looking straight into Yumi's face, who had her hands on her hips, looking offended. She scoffed, "Well, if I was that little intern of yours, you wouldn't be yelling at me, would you? I'm only trying to help you do your job! I do so much for you and I can't ever even receive a 'Thank you, Yumi!', or maybe even a, 'You're the best, Yumi!' Don't expect to see me tomorrow, Miran." she turned on her heel, stomping down the hallway in Heejung's direction, "Oh, look, here she is! The only person who doesn't have to walk on eggshells around here!"

Walking past Heejung, Yumi's shoulder rammed into hers, nearly sending her toppling over. Heejung watched her walk away, her hand reaching up to rub her shoulder. What was her deal?

"Her attitude really knows no bounds," Miran said quietly as he walked towards Heejung, "Anyway, did you get your painting set up?"

Heejung nodded, "Uh... yeah. I was asked to come get your approval on it. But, if you're busy with something else-"

He interrupted her, "No, not at the moment. Just damage control. Yumi thinks she has the right to go around changing the layout of everything that I've already approved. Let's go look at your painting."

Heejung led him down a few hallways, finally coming up to her work, "This is it..." she nervously looked to the painting, and then to Miran, "So... what do you think?"

What did he think? He was speechless, to start. Gracing the canvas was a brown spotted rabbit, a clover firmly held in its mouth. It was surrounded by snow, the occasional blade of grass poking through in realistic detail. The rabbit's eyes were an emerald shade, and he was sitting up on his hind legs, ears sticking straight up in the air.

"It's... beautiful, Heejung."

She looked at him, shocked by his reaction and kind words. She had never heard such a positive compliment from him before, "Really? You're sure?"

"Yes. It might not be the most beautiful piece I've seen all day, but I can tell there's something special about it," knowingly, he looked at her again, "Is there some kind of significance behind it? I know some artists don't like to talk about that, but..."

Heejung moved her gaze back to the painting, "There is, actually. But," she laughed softly, "You'd have to think I was crazy if I told you."

 _You'd be surprised,_ he thought to himself, "I'm really very interested, if that changes your mind."

"I... I don't know," she stammered, "Maybe-"

Heejung was suddenly cut off when a museum employee turned a corner and called Miran's name, "Sir, we need you to come look at something, please."

Miran was torn. He wanted to stay right here and potentially listen to a story he already knew every single detail of, but knew he still had a lot of work to do, "Just a moment!"

Turning back to Heejung, he placed a hand on her shoulder, "I have a request. Tomorrow would you stick with me? I know most artists are supposed to stay by their paintings, but I would really appreciate your company tomorrow, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and quickly set off down the hallway. If she was with him all day tomorrow, surely he would be able to get something out of her about the painting.

Heejung stood still for a moment, crushed. If she wasn't able to stay by her painting tomorrow, how would she ever potentially find the person she was supposed to be waiting for? Turning down Miran would be the wrong thing to do, she knew, because she didn't want to make him mad. She took one more quick look at her painting, and slowly walked out of the museum, nervous for the next day.


	6. Chapter 5

If she wasn't already self-conscious enough while walking around the museum, she definitely felt it today. Every single person walking the halls and viewing the various art pieces was dressed in formal attire that looked to her like it would cost the same amount as a semester of college tuition. Expensive drinks and trays filled with little samples of food were being carried by people dressed in ridiculously clean suits, and here she was, dressed in a simple black flared dress. Her hair was down and loosely curled, and her feet were starting to get sore from walking in heels all morning.

She especially felt odd walking around next to Miran, who normally dressed perfectly, but somehow today had completely outdone himself. His hair was brushed back away from his face, and he was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit with a white button-down shirt underneath, and a green tie around his neck. Everything he was wearing, right down to his shoes, looked brand new. He looked completely elegant.

The two were walking slowly around the museum, stopping every so often so Miran could talk to some important big shots. Heejung felt awkward, as if she didn't deserve to be here in this moment. While she was walking alongside Miran, people would give her odd looks, and whisper things to each other that she probably didn't want to hear.

As they passed by her painting, she found that no one seemed to be paying any mind to it. That didn't really shock her, if she was honest, but she did feel a bit disappointed, as though Miran had lied to her about its quality. The other artwork in the museum was undoubtedly miles ahead of hers..

After walking around for a few hours, to Heejung's surprise, Miran suddenly leaned down to whisper to her, "Hey, let's go sit down for a bit. My feet are exhausted."

Heejung obliged, continuing to follow him into his office at the end of the hallway. Once inside, Miran locked the door behind him and removed his suit jacket, placing it on the coatrack next to his door, "Hopefully no one bothers us. I figured if my feet were starting to hurt, yours must be on fire," he stepped over to a coffee maker on a counter in the corner of the room, "Coffee?"

"Yes, please," Heejung answered, feeling odd. Miran was never this casual around her.

She took a seat on the armchair in the center of the room, removing her heels and rubbing her feet, "Is the crowd normally this... extreme?"

Miran continued to work on the coffee, "Yes, especially since this is one of the biggest shows of the year."

Heejung sat in silence for a while, watching Miran working. Finally, he finished up and carried two mugs to the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch across from her, "So," he spoke up, "Are you enjoying yourself today?"

Not wanting to be completely honest, Heejung faked a smile, "Yeah, it's nice. I just feel guilty not looking as fancy as you and the other people here."

"Don't be silly," he picked up his coffee mug, "I think you look nice," he finished before taking a drink.

Heejung's face heated up a bit, "Oh, well... thank you." He really was quite charming in the rare occasion that he would offer up a compliment so easily.

After a silence that made Heejung feel a bit uncomfortable, Miran spoke again, "So, you're going to tell me about that painting, right?"

Why was he so interested? It was a bit personal, and Heejung wasn't sure if she was willing to talk about it, "I mean... I don't know."

Miran took a sip of his coffee, "I'm not giving you an option here," he spoke sternly, "I gave you the chance to show it, could you at least return the favor by telling me a bit about it? Can you not tell how much I like it?"

Heejung was confused. Why was he suddenly acting like this? "Miran, it's just extremely personal," she said quietly, giving him an apologetic look.

His face became more serious, "Heejung, I don't want to get mad."

She had never heard his voice in such a low tone. Was he this way during more casual conversations? If that was true, she wasn't sure if she wanted to continue this one, "I don't want you to either, but... you must understand that some artists like to keep things private about their work, right?"

Miran suddenly stood, running a hand through his hair and sighing. Heejung looked at him, concerned, and apologized quietly, unsure that he could even hear her, "Miran, I'm sorry."

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Miran closed his eyes tightly and started to pace in front of the couch. He was waiting desperately for her to clue him in. He knew her story, but saying it without her telling him would almost certainly scare her away. He was really starting to become impatient.

"I don't understand why you're getting so upset, you said yourself just last night that you understand some artists don't like to talk about things like this," Heejung spoke up, becoming slightly annoyed at his attitude.

Miran continued to pace, trying to keep himself from spilling out all the words he so desperately wanted to say to her. He was trying to change this aspect of himself, but he was starting to think his childish tempers and attitudes would never change.

"Why won't you talk to me now?" she asked softly, "I know you're disappointed, but..." her voice raised suddenly, "Miran, talk to me, or I'm leaving!"

Stopping in his tracks, he opened his eyes and looked at her, unable to hold back his anger, "Why won't you tell me? I've been nothing but extremely giving to you, just give me this one thing in return!"

His angry outburst felt like a slap, and she flinched. She had honestly never seen him like this, but she supposed he was right, wasn't he?

He had given her this internship, had allowed her to put up her artwork in the show, and now was letting her be seen with him while they were surrounded by big shots in the art industry. She supposed she really _did_ owe him something.

"Fine," she muttered, moving her eyes to look at the floor.

Miran sat down once more, leaning forward so as to hear her better, "Don't you see that I just..." he was never one for sincere words in situations like this, but he tried his best, "I just want to know more about you."

Lifting her gaze, Heejung met Miran's eyes and suddenly felt comforted again, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to make fun of me. It's something I haven't shared with anyone before," she sat upright again and fiddled nervously with the hem of her dress, "When I was able to leave the hospital after suffering from amnesia, I came across a notebook in my room. Well, I didn't, but my friend at the time did. We don't talk that much anymore, though."

Miran's heart leapt, and he immediately felt relief. So she _had_ found it.

"Simply put, the notebook had an... interesting story in it. One that's completely unbelievable, and honestly sounds like it could only exist in a fairy tale. After a while, I thought it may have been a prank pulled by someone trying to mess with me after my memory was gone. I've read it countless times, and as unreal as it sounds, there's still something about it that keeps it in the back of my mind constantly, even after three years. It really sounds too good to be true, but at the same time... I can't help but want to think it may have actually happened."

Her head began to pound. She rested her elbow on her knee, and her head in her palm. There was silence, and she was positive Miran probably had lost interest. And yet, at that moment, his hand reached over to encouragingly grab hers, "And what was this story about?" he asked softly.

"It just sounds crazy, I know you'll think so," his hand was comforting as it held even tighter on to hers, urging her to continue, "According to this story, four years ago, I met five animals. Two cats, and three rabbits. They were left in my room over night, and I ended up keeping them. I took care of them, fed them, and spent every moment with them. Apparently, I specifically bonded with one of the rabbits, a brown spotted one. That's the significance of the painting. I took the rabbit out everywhere with me, to the park, the beach... And suddenly, this is the crazy part, he apparently changed form right in front of my eyes, into a human. It doesn't matter how many times I read that part, it sounds insane. It's the parts afterwards that feel... real. We became extremely close, even started dating. I think we were in love, if I'm interpreting the words right. We went to the book store all the time, to the movies, the cafe... Apparently we did everything together. And then, one night it was all taken away from us,"

Miran knew the rest of the story all too well, and even now, years later, it still fueled a rage inside of him, "What happened?"

Using her free hand, Heejung wiped the tears that were starting to form in her eyes, "This part sounds insane too. Apparently the boy was playing a part in a 'game'. All of the animals were. However, since we had gotten so close, he was proclaimed the winner, and as such, had to be taken away to his home again. He mentioned something about my memories being gone if I truly wanted him back. I'm still not sure what he meant by that. And finally, he promised to come find me. And I'm still waiting, after three years," her grip tightened on Miran's hand, "My intention was to paint that picture, and hopefully draw the attention of whoever promised to come find me. It's such a long shot, even just talking about it makes me feel like an idiot. I'm so stupid."

Miran searched for the proper words to say, feeling he himself would start crying at any point if he didn't say something quick, "So you still intend on finding him?"

Heejung scoffed, "That's if he's even real. And if he is, who's to say he hasn't forgotten about me now?"

"I'll help you, then."

"What?" looking up again, Heejung stared at him in confusion, "You'll... help me? How exactly do you intend to do that?"

"We'll look over the notebook together. If you really care about this person, surely we can find a way for you to find them."

Although his proposal sounded insane, her heart swelled just knowing how much he truly cared. She was about to respond, when there was a pounding noise on the door to the office. "Seriously?!" Miran exclaimed, frustrated, as he headed over to answer it.

"What are you doing in here, sir? Several people are looking for you, you know," came a voice from the door.

"Fine, fine," Miran answered, slamming the door shut in the man's face. He quickly shuffled back over to the coffee table, his hand resting on Heejung's shoulder, "Why don't you just rest in here for the remainder of the day? You look like you could use it."

Heejung gladly obliged, thanking him and leaning back in the chair, feeling the pressure lift off of her. She watched Miran head back over to the door, putting his suit jacket back on. Before he walked outside of the office, he turned around once more, "Thank you for sharing your story, Heejung. We'll talk more about it later, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, he slipped out of the office, leaving Heejung alone with only her thoughts.

* * *

Miran spent the rest of the day trying to occupy himself, finding that any time he had a free moment, he only wanted to return to his office and be with Heejung. He spoke with many artists, as well as other important people in the art industry, and when he had the chance, he made sure to walk past Heejung's painting, finding that it comforted him. Visitors slowly started to dissipate, and so did the employees working, until finally, he was the only one left roaming the halls.

Suppressing a yawn, he walked down the quiet hallway towards his office, his footsteps echoing. His feet had grown tired again, and he could feel his eyes starting to droop. This had easily been one of the longest days of his life.

He slowly opened the door to his office, looking around the room and finding that Heejung was curled up on the couch, fast asleep. As quietly as he could, he walked towards her and kneeled down in front of the couch. He stared at her for a moment, and hesitantly reached a hand out to move a strand of hair that was hanging in her face behind her ear. He studied her face, finding that she really hadn't changed much at all in the last three years.

"Heejung, wake up," he spoke quietly, and softly nudged her shoulder.

Her eyes lazily opened, and when she realized where she was, she sat up quickly, "Wait, what time is it?"

"It's almost 9:00. You slept most of the day."

"Oh god," she smacked her forehead, embarrassment overcoming her again, "I'm sorry, Miran."

"Don't worry about it," he tried to be as polite as possible, still feeling traces of guilt from his outburst earlier that day, "You must have needed it. You should try getting more sleep at night."

Miran stood up and walked to his desk to gather his things, "Hurry and put your shoes on, I'm sure you're as ready to go home as I am after today."

Heejung did as she was told and the two headed out of the office together. Before they left the building, Miran shut off all the lights and locked all the doors.

The night was extremely chilly, making Heejung shiver as the breeze hit her. "Well, before we get too cold," Miran said, pulling a pair of gloves out of his coat pocket and putting them on his hands, "let's talk about our conversation earlier. We both have a day off tomorrow, are you free?"

"What?" Heejung had almost completely forgotten about the awkward conversation between the two earlier that day, "Oh... oh, yeah. I'm free, why?"

"I'm asking if you want to meet up somewhere. To talk about that notebook of yours. Unless you've decided to give up on it after all?"

"Are you sure you really want to help? I don't want to pull you into something you have nothing to do with," she questioned him, feeling guilty. He was such a busy guy, why would be want to spend his day off with her?

"I said I want to help, did you think I was lying?" he raised an eyebrow, "So, how about we meet for lunch tomorrow? Your choice. You can just text me when you decide."

He turned on his heel, and was about to walk away without receiving an answer, which he knew was a horrible habit of his, until Heejung's hand grasped his, "Wait, Miran."

"What-" he turned quickly to her, and was shocked when she embraced him in a hug. His breath hitched, and without thought, his arms quickly wrapped around her as well.

"Thank you, for everything you've done for me," she said, her grip becoming tighter, "I don't know where I'd be right now if it weren't for you."

He wanted this moment to last forever, and he was disappointed when she pulled away, said goodbye, and started to walk in the opposite direction, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

He responded with a small wave, and stood still for a moment, his heart racing. He could barely take it anymore, and his patience was starting to run out. He knew that tomorrow, he had to tell her everything. It was a risk he was willing to take.


	7. Chapter 6

It was another cold morning, and it had snowed overnight, leaving a light, white sheet along the sidewalks and buildings in Busan. Heejung slept in a bit later then normal that morning, and woke up at around 9:00. After showering, she rummaged through her closet, trying to find suitable clothes for the day. It had been a while since she had gone out for fun with a friend. Although, she supposed this was a bit different. Miran wasn't exactly a friend, and yet,t she felt odd just calling him 'boss'.

She ended up choosing a pastel pink and white striped sweater, a pair of jeans, warm boots, all accompanied by a large white scarf.

She spent most of the morning sketching, and finally picked up her phone to text Miran at around 11:00. However, to her surprise, he had already texted her.

" _Not sure what time you got up this morning, but I'm impatient so I'll just choose lunch. Meet me in front of the bookstore at around 12:00, and don't be late."_

It felt odd to get such a casual text from her boss, but at the same time, it made her smile.

She left her apartment at about 11:45, and walked to the bookstore, which only took her about ten minutes. Not surprisingly, Miran was already sitting on a bench, waiting for her there. When he saw her approaching, he stood, greeting her with a smile. He was dressed in a white sweater, layered with an unfastened navy pea coat, and dark colored jeans. Resting on his head of messy blonde hair was the same black hat. He looked so odd to Heejung in casual clothes, like a completely different person. "Hungry?" he asked her.

She nodded, "Very. Where are we going, since you wouldn't let me decide?" she joked.

"I found a nice italian restaurant a few blocks away, I already got a reservation, hope you like italian food."

Coincidentally, she did. She smiled, "Sounds great!"

The restaurant was far fancier than Heejung had expected, and she felt bad for not dressing a bit nicer, but she supposed that if Miran didn't make the effort, she shouldn't feel so bad. Their reservation placed them at a table for two on the second floor, right next to a window. The two ordered drinks, and then perused the menus in front of them.

"I'm feeling like spaghetti," Miran declared, setting down his menu after not looking at it for long, "What about you?"

Heejung was unsure. Everything on the menu looked appetizing, but the spaghetti did sound especially good, "I think I'll have the same."

"I guess I just have really good taste, huh?" He joked, leaning forward on the table.

When their waitress returned, they both ordered, and she took their menus, stating it would be about thirty or forty-five minutes, since the restaurant was so busy.

"So, you brought it right?" Miran asked plainly as soon as the waitress left. He was obviously eager to get down to business.

Heejung gulped nervously, "Um, yeah," she reached into her messenger bag and slowly pulled out the tattered notebook, "It's a bit worn, so be careful."

"Before we get into that," he seemed to ignore her, "I'm going to be honest with you, Heejung."

Her nerves increased, "What... do you mean?"

Miran's heart was pounding like crazy, but he kept a calm composure nonetheless, "How do you feel about our relationship as it stands right now?"

He had thought all night and all morning about this. Claiming he was the one who wrote the notebook might not be the best solution, after all. Maybe skipping that and simply being honest with her about his feelings was the best option. She said it herself, she wasn't convinced the story in the notebook was even real.

"That's..." she began to blush, and her hands fiddled nervously with the silverware in front of her, "I mean... what does that have to do with why we're here?"

His eyes searched her face, "I'm asking you to be honest with me. As long you can do that, I'll be honest as well."

"Miran, you're my boss. I don't..." she met his eyes for single, awkward second, "I don't think this is appropriate."

"Nevermind that. What if I wasn't your boss? How would you feel then?"

If honesty was what he wanted, she decided to give it to him, even though she was struggling to comprehend what exactly was happening, "Look, I like you, yeah. You're successful... attractive... we get along well... but," she looked down to the notebook, "I just don't think it would be right, understand?"

This tactic obviously wasn't working. He guessed he had to use his only other option, "Heejung..." taking a deep breath, he looked her straight in the eyes and spoke clearly, but nervously, "What if I told you, I wrote that notebook?"

Blinking several times, her eyebrows lowered, "Don't joke around. You said you wanted to help."

"I'm being serious."

Heejung crossed her arms, scoffing, "Is this what Yumi meant when she said you apparently like younger girls? Are you just trying to lure me into some trap? Have you done this to interns in the past? Well, you'll have to try harder because not only am I older than you, I'm also not that thick-skulled."

Miran gave a frustrated laugh, "Are you serious? I'm trying to be transparent with you right now. I can prove I wrote this!" his finger jabbed into the notebook next to him, "Ask me about any event told in here, and I can recite it in perfect detail!"

"Maybe you did write it. Maybe you had your eye on me for a long time. Maybe you planted it in my room. I'm starting to get the feeling this isn't the first time you've done something like this."

Was she really being serious? What would possibly lead her to suspect him of something like that? Miran was rendered speechless.

"Successful and good looking guy like you? Yeah, you could easily rope in some stupid girl, huh? Is that why you went to the book store so much? Were you stalking me? You're sick, targeting a girl who suffered from amnesia."

Before he could say anything in defense, she stood up, nearly toppling over the chair she was sitting in. She grabbed her bag, and after giving a final disgusted look towards Miran, she stormed out of the restaurant. Completely flustered, Miran sat for a second, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

After processing the event that had just taken place for a moment, he stood up. H slipped the notebook under his arm, left enough money on the table to pay for their meal that hadn't even arrived yet, and quickly headed out of the restaurant as well. He hoped he could catch up to her, but when he got outside, she was nowhere to be found.

"Dammit," he uttered to himself, grabbing his phone from his pocket and dialing Heejung's number. No response. He'd really done it now. If only he had been just a bit more patient, maybe things would have turned out better.

After not getting a response the second and third times he tried to call, he quickly texted her.

" _I'm sorry I came across a bit strong. Please answer me."_

Frustrated beyond belief, he tried to remember the exact location of her apartment. He would probably only make things worse by showing up unannounced, especially when she had never told him where she lived. However, at this moment, he only wanted to get his point across to her, and maybe with someone like her, it was best to be as bold as possible.

Hoping he had the right address remembered, he headed in the direction of her apartment, and after walking for about ten minutes, he finally came across the all too familiar building. Quickly running inside, he jammed the elevator button several times, as if that would speed up the process. He could still remember the floor, and as soon as he was in the long hallway of numbered rooms, he was able to remember her exact room number.

He stood in front of it for a moment, preparing himself for the worst. Miran gave two strong knocks, and after a moment, he heard her yell, "Leave me alone! Get out of here!"

Stubborn and determined, he knocked again, calling out, "Heejung, I just want to drop off the notebook. You left it behind."

"Apparently it's yours, anyway. You really think I want it?" she called out again, sounding as if she was directly on the other side of the door, "How do you even know where I live? You're so creepy!"

"I'm not leaving until you at least have the decency to talk about this. It would be awfully awkward at work tomorrow if we didn't."

There was silence for a moment, and Miran was convinced she had left the door, until he heard the clicking sound of it slowly being unlocked. It swung open only a bit, and Heejung stared at him, obviously annoyed, "What?"

Miran coughed, "Are you... going to let me in or not?" he asked, his hand pushing on the doorknob.

After a frustrated sigh, she swung the door open completely and walked inside, "Just leave the book on the table. I'm really not in the mood to talk about this right now."

Miran shut the door behind him, and set the notebook on the kitchen table, "How can I convince you?"

"You're still going on about that? You really are _sick,_ " she responded, still refusing to make eye contact.

"Heejung, please," he demanded, "look at me."

Heejung turned slightly towards him, "Don't try to smooth talk me. I'm not going to fall for it like all the other girls you've probably roped in."

Rolling his eyes, Miran sighed, "Let me be perfectly clear with you," he removed his coat and threw it across the kitchen table, "I have never had an intern before. I never even had it approved by the president over the museum. I created the opportunity specifically for you and only you, and I created it on the spot when we talked in the coffee shop months ago."

"How can you say that and expect me to believe you? Especially with the way everyone at the museum talks about you," she slowly shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her, "With the stuff Yumi says all the time... How can I not assume you're just some pervert? Is that why you read romance novels all the time?" she scoffed.

Silence came over Miran. He was fully aware that the others at the museum didn't like him, but it didn't make her words any less painful, "I've worked hard for that position. Harder that you will _ever_ know," he said sternly, "They hate me because I'm better than them. I'm smarter than them. I have better work ethic than them. And Yumi? She has slept her way to the top of every job she's ever had, why do you think she's telling you all those things? Are you even able to comprehend what I'm telling you right now?"

"You're so full of yourself, it's sick. Maybe if you treated everyone nicer, they wouldn't hate you so much," Heejung spoke honestly, avoiding Miran's question, "And what you say about Yumi, does that mean you've helped her along with her job? Is that what you're trying to tell me? That must be why she's all over you all the time, you two obviously have some kind of history."

"Are you stupid? I would never, not with Yumi. Not with anyone," he paused, trying to find the right words, "I haven't so much as kissed anyone in three years, Heejung. Don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you right now?"

"I don't believe you, and I don't need to hear about your personal business," she started to turn away again, walking to the couch and sitting down, "Can you leave now? I need to think about whether I'll be coming to work tomorrow or not."

Groaning loudly, Miran ignored her request and eyed her carefully. What angle was he supposed to take now? There had to be something he could say or bring up that would convince her. Not the notebook, he knew she had convinced herself that was simply a prank at this point. His eyes continued searching her, until his gaze stopped on her hands, and the ring adorning one of her fingers. That was it.

"Heejung," he spoke softly, and she ignored him, but he continued, "Do you happen to have a silver ring with a light blue gem in the center?"

It was the only piece of evidence he felt he had left that could possibly, hopefully, convince her. There was silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her to respond.

She whipped her head around to look at him, "Why?"

She wore the ring every single day, and didn't pay much mind to it. She remembered having it on when she was admitted to the hospital, and she hadn't put much thought into it. Maybe a ring passed down from a family member? Or simply a ring she saw, liked, and then bought?

"Maybe this will be proof enough for you," he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and reached into it, revealing a ring that matched the one on Heejung's finger. He angrily tossed it onto the coffee table in front of her.

Heejung stared at the ring in front of her for a bit, and finally picked it up, studying it. It was a perfect match to hers, and judging by how worn it looked, she knew he couldn't have just happened to buy this recently as a ploy to lure her in. She was completely speechless, "I... don't understand," she shook her head in confusion, but kept her guard up, "What are you trying to tell me with this?"

When she received no response, she looked up, and nearly jumped from her seat when she found Miran was now sitting next to her, his face not far from hers, "Are you really that dense?" he asked calmly.

Heejung felt extremely uncomfortable. She shifted away from him slightly, but locked eyes with him, not wanting to back down, "I don't know what you're getting at. It's just a ring. I'm not stu-"

She was cut off immediately as Miran's hands lunged forward to grip the sides of her face, and his lips pressed roughly against hers. He hadn't initially planned on doing so, but he found that his patience was growing extremely thin.

A mixture of emotions filled Heejung; bliss, anger, and most prominent, confusion. Why did this feel so... right?

When he pulled away, Miran searched her face for some kind of reaction, but he only received a blank stare, "Do you understand now?"

"I..." her voice was soft at first, but then her face slowly began to twist with anger, "Get out."

Startled, Miran sat completely still, "What?"

Broken from the trance, Heejung stood, shoving him away from her, "I said get out!"

Still confused, but feeling defeated, he slowly stood, grabbing his ring off the coffee table before backing up to the front door. Unsure of what to even say, he hesitantly grabbed his coat off the table in the kitchen, and paused next to the front door.

As he was about to say something, Heejung interrupted him, "Go! And don't expect me to come to work tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe even ever again!"

With those words hitting him like bricks, he obediently opened the front door and backed out slowly, shutting it softly behind him.

Heejung huffed with anger and stormed to her room, slamming the door shut behind her and letting out a much-needed scream. This was the most confused she had ever been in her life, that was for sure. If he really was the one who she was supposed to be waiting for all this time, why was he being so rude about it? And why did he kiss her so suddenly? Why did it feel so right, even though she knew it was completely wrong? He was her boss, a relationship would be completely taboo between the two of them. If he wanted to reconnect with her, why did he think offering her an internship was the best way to do it?

Her mind racing with endless questions, Heejung collapsed on her bed, her head starting to pound. She knew for a fact that she wouldn't be showing up to work tomorrow, not after the horribly awkward situation that had just taken place.

As hard as Heejung tried to get good sleep that night, her dreams woke her up in a series of panic and confusion, several times. All she could think about was the kiss between her and Miran, and she still couldn't decide if she had enjoyed it or despised it more.

The biggest question in her mind was how she could come back from this situation and continue to work for him. She was becoming aware that if they couldn't get past this, she would have to quit the internship, and work somewhere else that she surely wouldn't enjoy nearly as much.


	8. Chapter 7

Work felt weird the next day. Miran found himself sometimes looking over to make a remark to a person that wasn't even sitting next to him. He checked his phone several times throughout the day, hopeful that a text message would show up with some kind of apology, but he was met with disappointment every time he looked.

The office was so quiet he could only hear the clock ticking on the wall, and the scratching of his pen on the paper in front of him. It was starting to become grating, and it made it extremely hard to focus.

When his phone rang for his lunch call, he nearly jumped out of his seat, and reluctantly answered, "Hello?" This was the last person he wanted to be talking to.

Yumi answered in her usual disgustingly cheery voice, "This is your lunch call, but you probably knew that, didn't you? The usual?"

"Yeah, just the salad like normal. Don't double it this time, though," he immediately regretted his words after he said them.

"Oh, is the intern not with you today? Why's that?"

Miran rolled his eyes, "Just hurry up with the food. I'm hungry," he answered, hanging up immediately afterwards and placing his phone back on the desk.

It didn't take long before Yumi was barging into his office. Miran looked up quickly from his paperwork and scowled, "Do you understand the concept of knocking?"

"So where is she today?" Yumi completely ignored his question, and plopped the bag with his food in it on his desk.

"I don't really think that matters. And don't ignore me when I ask a question," he returned to his work, continuing under his breath, "Did you grow up in a barn?"

She ignored him once more, "Why do you talk to people that way, Miran?"

Fully aware that she wouldn't leave until he answered, he looked back up, "Look, I'm extremely busy, if you couldn't tell," he gestured to the stack of papers in front of him.

Yumi's arms were crossed in front of her, "You like her, don't you? You really have strange taste."

Unsure of how this related to their conversation, he raised an eyebrow, "I'm really not sure why that's any business of yours, first of all, and second, I don't appreciate you shoving into my personal life."

Slamming her palm on his desk, Yumi leaned forward, uncomfortably close. She sneered at him, and raised her free hand to poke him in the chest, "Nobody ever taught you to respect your elders, did they? You're so young, you need to be taught some manners. You strut around here like you own the place, but here's something you don't know," she gave him another sharp jab, "Most of the people working for you don't like you one bit, and they've noticed your favoritism with that girl. We're not stupid, contrary to your constant criticisms. Shape up, or you might just find yourself out of a job."

The standoff continued for a few more seconds, until Miran spoke clearly and firmly, "Get out of my office. I mean it."

"Fine," she backed off, casually flipping her hair away from her face, and gave a slight shrug of her shoulders, "but don't say I didn't warn you."

Miran immediately returned his eyes to the work in front of him as soon as she left the room. His appetite completely gone, he pushed the bag sitting in front of him to the side, trying his best to forget about what had just transpired. The ticking of the clock on the wall became obvious again, causing him to let out an annoyed sigh. Feeling hopeful, he glanced down to his phone, checking it for any messages again. Still nothing. He laid the pen he was using on the paper in front of him, leaning back in his chair.

Maybe it really was time to give up. It was obvious that his one chance to reach out to Heejung was probably used up now, and if he continued on like this, he had the potential to lose his job. Everything he had worked so hard for seemed to be crumbling away just like it had so many times before. He was starting to become convinced that life would never deal him a fair hand.

Frustration overwhelmed him as he began thinking back on his life. The passing of his father, who was the only one who had ever seemed to hold any ounce of faith in him, then being told suddenly he had been adopted, and wasn't welcome in the family anymore. All his meticulous and careful studying being put completely to waste. Back then, he had been so consumed with rage that he only wanted revenge. When he was placed into that game years ago, he was still consumed by it.

He had promised to come back to her as a changed man, but had he changed too much?

Checking his phone once more, and still being met with disappointment, he picked it up and dialed Heejung's number. This time, he hoped she wouldn't pick up immediately.

The phone rang several times, until he could hear her voicemail tone, followed by a beep that let him know to record his message, "Hey. I know I'm the last person whose voice you want to hear," he laughed nervously, "but... I think we need to talk. I know it didn't go well last time, but I promise this time it will be different, and..." his voice drifted off, and he paused for a second before continuing, "You can say no if you want, but I think you'll find if you give me another chance, it will be worth it."

He held the phone against his ear, trying to decide if he should say anything else. Another beep sounded on the other line, signaling that his time was up. Setting the phone back on his desk, he exhaled loudly, closing his eyes and resting his hands behind his head. After giving himself a few moments of peace, he opened his eyes again and stared at the mountain of paperwork on his desk. It wasn't getting any smaller.

* * *

The sound of Heejung's phone ringing startled her as she was in the middle of sketching at her desk. Quickly reaching for it, she immediately put it back down when she saw it was Miran calling. He was so relentless.

She had spent most of the day trying to ignore the events from yesterday, and found that sketching was helping quite a bit. She composed several landscapes, some with mountains and others with dense forests. Heejung felt completely at peace in moments like this.

Her sketching continued for most of the day, until her hand became so cramped that she knew she needed to take a break. Glancing at her phone to check the time, she noticed she had a voicemail from the call earlier.

"Seriously?" she whined, picking up the phone to listen to the voicemail anyway.

" _Hey. I'm aware that I'm the last person whose voice you want to hear, but... I think we need to talk. I know it didn't go well last time, but I promise this time it will be different, and... You can say no if you want, but I think you'll find if you give me another chance, it will be worth it."_

As much as she wanted to fix things, she didn't know how ready she was to face him after his bold actions. She removed the phone from her ear, thinking for a moment before starting to type out a new text. Staring at the screen, she felt torn. Did she want to give him another chance? She wasn't sure just yet, but maybe it was the right thing to do.

" _I'm agreeing, but only if we meet up in public. I don't want you pulling another stunt like yesterday."_

Heejung sent the text, and it didn't take long before she received a response.

" _Tonight after work. We can meet at the coffee shop you worked at before. I won't pull anything."_

It frustrated her to admit that she felt a tinge of relief after reading his response. She wanted so desperately to be bitter towards him, but at the same time, she _did_ really want to fix things.

" _Ok."_

* * *

Bundled up in a winter coat as well as a scarf, the chilly night air still felt freezing to Heejung, making her want to retreat back into her apartment. She hoped this meeting would be fairly quick. As always, Miran was already waiting for her, sitting at a table for two outside of the shop, with two coffee cups placed in front of him. Already irked by the fact that he was always beating her everywhere, she sat down across from him, avoiding his eyes, "Hey."

"Hi," he said faintly, "How was your day?"

 _I wish he'd stop trying to act so interested all the time,_ Heejung thought, but held the thought in her head. Instead, she responded, "It was fine."

"I, uh..." Miran's hands fidgeted with the coffee in front of him, "Look, I wanted to apologize. I admit I acted like an idiot yesterday."

Heejung was silent, and took a quick sip of her coffee.

He waited for a response, and when he didn't receive one, he continued, leaning forward, "I can't stand this wall between us. It's only been a day and it's driving me crazy. Tell me you feel the same way."

The brunette was still unsure of what to say. Her face remained neutral, and she decided to not say anything. _I'll let him keep whining,_ she thought. He was always expecting acknowledgement, and she was interested to see what would happen when he didn't get what he wanted for once.

"Say _something,_ before I feel like a complete idiot," he begged.

Heejung continued to play her game, simply taking sips of her coffee every once in a while and staring out at the city surrounding them. Miran's hands tightly gripped the table in front of him in frustration. In moments like this, he would normally throw a fit and hope to get his way, but he knew right now, that would only make her get up and leave.

"I asked you to come meet me so that I could apologize. I've done that, and I'm not sure what more you expect from me, but believe me when I say I will do whatever I need to in order to regain your trust," he eyed her, although she would not return his gaze.

"Why are you so adamant about this?" Heejung suddenly asked without hesitation, "Why do you care so much about me? Why me in the first place?"

"I've explained that clearly in the notebook," he stated, realizing afterwards that his voice may have come across a bit too strong, "You're the first person who was able to accept me, even with my attitude, my complaints, the constant name-calling... I know you don't remember it, but I wish you would believe me, and I wish I knew how to prove it to you. I've spent the last three years of my life trying to change that aspect of myself, but now I wonder if I've maybe changed too much. Maybe I've worked too hard. Maybe that's why all my efforts only chase you away."

Shocked by his soft tone and surprisingly kind words, Heejung lifted her gaze to focus on him, although she was still unsure of what exactly to say.

"I just need another chance. Don't give up on me this quick, please," he pleaded, which stunned her even more, "I've worked _extremely_ hard the last three years of my life, just to be able to... be with you again."

There was silence between the two for some time, Miran's face tense with uncertainty, and Heejung's mind swimming with thoughts. She studied him closely, searching his face for proof that he was bluffing. Eventually she had to admit to herself, this was the most sincere he had ever come across.

"Alright," Heejung broke the silence, "I forgive you."

Miran exhaled with relief, suppressing a grin, "I promise you won't regret that."

"Remember the other day when you said you wanted honesty from me? I'm going to give that to you right now," she declared, "I like you. I said it the other day at that italian restaurant. I think you're frustrating sometimes, but I also think you're charming and ridiculously attractive. When you kissed me, I'll admit, it didn't feel wrong. I'm just not sure if I feel right about it, since you're my boss. Not to mention the fact that I'm still not sure what to make of that notebook. I'm honestly torn, Miran."

Hanging on every word she said, he waited for her to continue, and when he knew she wouldn't, he responded, "What if we just forgot about the fact that I'm your boss? What if we just set that to the side for right now?"

"I'm not sure how that would work. We go to the same job every day, and work at the same desk," she answered dismally, "It would be extremely difficult to just 'put that to the side'."

"One date," he held a finger up, emphasizing his point, "Allow me one date to prove to you that this is all worth it. I just need this one chance."

She was surprised by his sudden request, "That doesn't change the fact that we work together, though."

"We can meet and act as though we don't know each other. Think of it as starting fresh," unsure if his idea would convince her, he continued anyway, "In fact, I'll cook you dinner. You can come to my place, and we won't run the risk of other people we work with finding us out together, if that's a concern of yours."

While she was hesitant, something in Heejung honestly wanted to give him this one chance, "Alright. But if we do this, I think it would be best if we didn't see each other for a bit. I won't plan on coming to work until we get this over and done with. Oh, and I think we probably shouldn't call or text each other until then, either."

"If you think that would be best," he nodded, even though he wanted to deny her request, "When do you want to do this then?"

Pondering the question, she wrapped her hands around the coffee in front of her, "I'm not sure if a whole week is enough time," she thought out loud, her fingers drumming against the warm paper cup, "What about Sunday, two weeks from now?"

His stomach was in knots, "Two weeks?" Once again suppressing his urge to immediately shoot down her request, he paused for a moment before obliging, "Alright."

"I really should get back home now that we've cleared this up. It's for the best, anyway," she stood, grabbing her coffee cup in both hands, "Thank you for being so understanding."

He wanted to offer to walk her home, but knew that would only make things more difficult. Thinking about not seeing her for two weeks was already driving him insane. "Be safe walking home, I look forward to seeing you again."

Heejung hesitated for a moment, but turned away after a quick wave, and started walking in the opposite direction.


End file.
